


a knife is only as good as the one who wields it

by ThirtySixSaveFiles



Series: More Bang for Your Buck: Persona Edition [2]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Knifeplay, M/M, Selfcest, Teenagers, unnecessary exploration of video game mechanics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-16
Updated: 2018-04-16
Packaged: 2019-04-23 13:19:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14333295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThirtySixSaveFiles/pseuds/ThirtySixSaveFiles
Summary: Akira's looking for an upgrade, weapon-wise. Joker approves.





	a knife is only as good as the one who wields it

The rain is coming down in sheets, the kind that an umbrella can only partially shield from. Akira tucks his bag closer to his body out of habit before he remembers that Morgana’s with Ann, not under his arm. Ann had volunteered, this time; Akira wonders what they get up to together, or if he’s better off not knowing. Shrugging his bag up his shoulder again, he consults the street signs, matching them against his memory. Untouchable should be just down - there.

The airsoft store looks the same as he remembers it, sandwiched between two unassuming shopfronts in a back alley in Shibuya. The owner looks the same, too, boots kicked up on the counter, paper in hand, and studiously uninterested in his customers until Akira pauses in front of him and clears his throat.

“Yeah?” Iwai looks up from his paper, but his expression only partially clears when he catches sight of Akira. “You again. Back for more, or did you break what I sold you already?”

“I’m looking for an upgrade,” Akira says, and at Iwai’s unimpressed look pulls Joker’s knife from his bag and slides it across the counter. Iwai’s eyebrows shoot up, but he just picks the knife up and pulls it from its sheath, holding it up to the light to inspect it.

“Yeah, I can see why. Not terrible for a beginner, but there’s definitely room to grow.” He resheathes the knife and drops his boots off the counter, and gesturing to the display below. “You looking for flashy or functional?”

Akira considers, scanning the case. “What have you got that’s both?”

Iwai snorts. “In that case - try this on for size.” He unlocks the case and pulls out a mid-sized blade that shines even in the dim light of the overcrowded store. Akira picks up up, testing. The grip fits comfortably in his hand, and the balance seems good; the blade is shiny, reflecting Joker’s mask back at him, and in the back of his head he can hear a murmur of approval.

“I’ll take it,” he says, reaching for his wallet.

 

* * *

 

The rain doesn’t let up, spattering against the door of the cafe as he lets himself in. LeBlanc is busy for the early evening, customers lingering over their coffee, unwilling to head back out in the dreary weather too soon. Sojiro waves distractedly, busy behind the counter, and Akira nods and heads for the stairs in the back before he can get roped into helping. It’s not that he minds the work so much - learning to brew to Sojiro’s exacting standards is kind of fun, actually - but he doesn’t want to lie to Sojiro any more than he has to. Sojiro can always tell, somehow, even if he doesn’t always call Akira on it - and he’d rather not disclose where he’s been.

The rain drums against the attic ceiling, steady enough to mask the outside world and rhythmic enough to become white noise, blending with the murmur of the cafe below and fading into the background. Akira sets his bag down on the desk, stowing away his purchases - medicine for later Metaverse visits, materials for the tools Morgana’s teaching him how to build - but pauses when he comes to the knife at the bottom of his bag.

He pulls it out and unsheathes it, holding it up in the bright light of the desk lamp. It’s much nicer than the old one, more solid in his hands, better balanced for fighting. In fact - Akira hefts the knife in his hand, snapping his wrist to twirl the blade up and around just like Joker does, just like _he’s_ done dozens of times in the Metaverse -

He completely fumbles it, the blade slicing through the tip of a finger on the way down before clattering to the desk. Akira curses, shaking his hand.

“ _Shit!_ ” Maybe those skills don't go both ways - although if they don't what is he training for? Akira brings his hand up to inspect the damage, but before he can a red-gloved hand catches his wrist and pulls him around.

Joker inspects the cut, face drawn in serious lines. It’s really little more than a scratch, blood barely beading to the surface, but Joker holds his wrist tightly, rummaging one-handed through the supplies Akira had just put away neatly before coming back with a small bandage and some antibiotic cream.

“Clumsy,” he says, cleaning Akira’s finger and applying the bandage. “Those things are sharp, you know.” He holds Akira’s hand up, inspecting his handiwork. Apparently satisfied, he presses a kiss to Akira’s palm, eyes rolling up to watch Akira’s face as he does it.

“Yeah, well.” Akira hopes Joker can’t feel how his pulse is picking up, how Joker’s lips feel hot on his rain-chilled skin. “I was just -”

“I know.” Joker lets Akira’s wrist go, gloved fingers dragging over his wrist as he pulls away. “This, right?” He picks up the knife and spins it effortlessly, blade glinting in the air before the handle smacks back into his palm.

“Yeah.” Akira glares, folding his arms. “ _That_ . I could _swear_ that was something I knew how to do.”

“Eh.” Joker wiggles one hand in a _kind of_ gesture, hefting the knife again and holding it up to the light to inspect it. “It’s complicated.”

“Then uncomplicate it for me,” Akira snaps, reaching out to try to take the knife back, but Joker holds it out of reach.

“It’s like - hm.” Joker seems to think about it, even as he puts a hand on Akira’s chest to stop him from getting closer, holding the knife back and away with a teasing grin. “It’s like - I know how to do it because you want to know _here_ .” Akira pauses, leaving off trying to slip around Joker’s hand as Joker’s fingers drum over his heart. “In _this_ place -” Joker gestures around the room with the knife. “You have to learn it the hard way.” He shrugs apologetically. “Sorry.”

Then his grin turns sly. “I could show you.” He drops his hand from Akira’s chest, turning the knife around and offering it hilt-first. “If you wanted.”

Akira looks down. This sounds like it might mean something else - but he _does_ want to know, and he can take anything Joker can throw at him.

“Yeah,” he says, fingers closing around the hilt, and Joker’s smile turns blinding. “Show me what you’ve got.”

 

* * *

 

It takes a few hours and a few more sliced fingers, but Akira thinks he’s getting the hang of this, sitting cross-legged opposite Joker and spinning the knife into the air. Joker seems to think so too, an approving glint in his eyes as he catches the knife on its way down.

“Very good. Again,” he says, flicking the knife back up into the air. It arcs high in the space between them, glinting, and Akira snatches it out of the air before it can _thunk_ into the floorboards (or his leg).

“What else can you show me?” Akira says, spinning the knife back into the air. Joker catches it deftly and tosses it from hand to hand for a moment, looking thoughtful. Then there’s a blur of movement and Akira’s flat on his back, with Joker astride his hips and the knife pressing delicately over his breastbone.

“Anything you want, Akira,” Joker murmurs, and it takes Akira a moment to remember what the question was over the rushing in his ears.

Joker drags the blade gently down Akira’s just, just firmly enough so that Akira can feel the pressure through the fabric of his shirt. He flicks his wrist when he gets to Akira’s blazer, and there’s a _pop_ as the top button goes flying.

“ _Hey_ ,” Akira snaps - or tries to, but it comes out breathy and Joker grins knowingly. “This is a school jacket.”

“Is it?” His tone says Joker knows damn well it is. There’s another _pop_ and the second button clatters somewhere off to Akira’s right.

Akira grabs Joker’s wrists and _yanks_ , rolling them over as Joker is pulled off-balance. He pushes himself up, pinning Joker’s wrist with one hand as he pries the knife out of his fingers with the other. Akira jams the knife down through that oversized cuff, into the floorboard, dangerously close to the wrist flexing beneath his fingers. He can feel the sudden intake of breath beneath him.

“Now you’re getting it,” Joker breathes, eyes shining. He fists his free hand in Akira’s shirt and pulls him down.

Joker’s lips are hot, almost searing against his, just like Akira remembers. Joker arches, pressing them together from chest to hip, and Akira braces a suddenly unsteady hand next Joker’s head to keep himself upright. Joker’s hand slides down Akira’s side, pressing their hips together and sliding a knee up between Akira’s legs. Akira’s hips jerk, grinding down against Joker’s thigh, and he breaks the kiss on a low groan, dropping his face into Joker’s neck.

“Quiet,” Joker murmurs, and Akira shivers, both at the breath against his ear and the reminder that the cafe is still open. The rain is probably loud enough to mask them, but -

Joker bites down on his ear and Akira clenches his teeth on the noise that tries to drag out of him. He turns his teeth to Joker’s neck in retaliation, and Joker’s breath goes out on a gasp. He wraps his arm around Akira’s back to pull him even closer, rolling his hips up, and Akira pants as the pressure sends lightning up his spine. He rocks his hips against Joker’s in an increasingly desperate rhythm; he’s so close, it’s right there, he just needs a few more seconds -

Joker slips his free hand underneath Akira’s shirt, reaching up. He rakes his nails down Akira’s back, and Akira comes on a half-sob, pressing close. Joker grind their hips together, thrusting up, and then his body draws taut, a whine escaping his lips as he shakes underneath Akira.

Akira lays there, draped over Joker, trying to catch his breath as Joker does the same, rubbing his fingers in lazy circles over the small of Akira’s back. When he feels like he can sit up without immediately collapsing again, Akira shifts back, unsure of what to say or how to extricate himself - or if he even wants to.

Joker’s hand slips away reluctantly from his back as Akira sits up, but his grin is wide and satisfied and just the slightest bit dazed. He bites his lip, eyes going hooded as he catches Akira watching.

“Sorry about the jacket,” he says, fingers tracing and catching in the loose buttonholes.

“Are you?” Akira says dryly, and Joker grins.

“Not really.” He twists underneath Akira, reaching up to yank the knife out of his cuff. He pushes himself up, shifting Akira back until Akira’s ass hits the floor, legs still spread about Joker’s waist.

“I am thou; thou art I,” Joker murmurs. “That’s what _he_ says, anyway,” and Akira knows he means Arsene. “But it’s a little bit different for you and me, isn’t it?”

He leans forward, catching Akira’s lips as he presses the hilt of the knife into Akira’s hand. Akira’s eyes close at the insistent press of Joker’s mouth, fingers closing around the handle.

When he opens his eyes he’s alone.

“Fuck,” he says quietly. Then, with more emphasis. “ _Fuck_.”

No one answers him, but he feels a phantom hand press briefly against his shoulder, there and gone in a breath.

Akira sighs, getting slowly to his feet and grimacing at the stickiness in his pants. He looks down at the knife in his hand, and tosses it experimentally in the air.

The knife spins dramatically, glinting in the fading light, and the handle smacks back into his palm with a satisfying sting. Akira grins.

“What do you charge for regular lessons?” he asks the empty room, and the answer comes almost immediately.

“Nothing unreasonable.” Joker’s voice sounds amused in his ear, but when Akira turns there nothing there. “Nothing you’re unwilling to give.”

That’s not entirely reassuring - but it’s not untrue, either.

Akira shakes his head, and goes to get cleaned up.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me at [ThirtySixSaveFiles](http://thirtysixsavefiles.tumblr.com) on Tumblr!


End file.
